


Things Like Gravity

by paperstorm



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, First Time, M/M, PWP, Schmoop, Top!Luke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 22:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3953686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/pseuds/paperstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>London era Muke porn. There is very little point. It was requested by an anon on tumblr and is inspired by this <a href="http://paper-storm.tumblr.com/post/119130991101">gif set</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Like Gravity

Michael rolls on top of Luke, kissing him slowly, so deeply Luke almost thinks he can feel it in his soul. They’re flushed and sweaty from the show, still. They’re getting better. All of them. Luke cringes when he watches videos from even six months ago. His voice was weak and shaky – he was so nervous those first few times. They all were, other than Calum, who has this annoying confidence that Luke is so jealous of. He still thinks they can get better, but that’s what they’re doing here in London. Getting better. Writing and recording and playing shows. There isn’t anywhere Luke would rather be, or any other three people on the planet he’d rather be with.  
   
Right now, though, specifically, there isn’t anywhere he’d rather be than here with Michael.  
  
The sheets are scratchy in this bed, the hotel hardly five-star, but Luke is too wrapped up in Michael to notice. Michael’s lips on his, Michael’s tongue probing gently at the inside of Luke’s mouth, Michael’s naked skin against his. It’s been a year at least that they’ve been playing this game, maybe more if Luke thinks back and includes all the time they spent together at Michael’s house while they were still in school – talking and giggling and recording terrible covers for YouTube and lying together in Michael’s bed whispering about dreams of being rock stars, aspirations so fragile and unlikely that they only ever felt safe admitted to each other under the protection of Michael’s Spiderman bedsheets. It was all elaborate, maybe unintentional, foreplay, leading painstakingly to where they are now, where kisses and touches and mouths making each other come have replaced the relaying of covert information.  
   
The first time Michael kissed him it was because Luke was homesick and upset and Michael would do anything to make him smile. The first time Michael’s mouth was on his dick, it was so good Luke almost cried. The first time Michael fucked him, Luke did cry a little, because it hurt a bit and then felt way too good, too overwhelming, like he’d been waiting for years for Michael to want him like that even though he never knew it in the way he knows about things like gravity.   
  
They’ve done it three more times since then, and each time it gets better and Luke wants it more, in between. Michael is so gorgeous on stage. His hair is dyed dark brown, right now, and it falls into his eyes when he sweats. Darker colors look good on him, Luke thinks, against his pale skin. His eyes are so bright when he looks down at Luke, before kissing him again hard enough to bruise. Michael is so possessive now that they’re together, and it makes Luke shiver. It makes him feel desired, in a way he never has before.  
   
“You were awesome tonight,” Michael tells him, in between fevered kisses. “You get me going up there sometimes, you know that? Good thing there’s a guitar in front of my crotch.”  
   
Luke laughs. He tangles his fingers in Michael’s hair, and pushes his hips up against Michael’s because the way he moans breathlessly when their cocks slide together is too tantalizing to ever resist. “So do you. When I forgot the words to Good Girls earlier? It’s ‘cause I was thinking about this. About getting you back here.”  
   
Michael ducks his head down and bites at the meat of Luke’s shoulder. Luke hisses, and Michael soothes over the sting with his tongue. Luke is so addicted to Michael’s tongue. The feel of it, warm and soft and wet, anywhere on his body instantly has daydreams floating through his mind of the things that tongue can do in the places where it counts for more.  
   
“You’re not allowed to do this with anyone else now, you know that, right?” Michael kisses up Luke’s neck and grinds into him – Luke’s head spins. He’s so hard already and they’ve only just started. Michael does that to him. “You’re mine now.”  
   
“Yours. All yours,” Luke promises. It isn’t a sacrifice. That’s how Luke wants it too. Somewhere, deep in the folders of his mind that Luke couldn’t access until recently, he thinks maybe he’s been in love with Michael since the day they met. Now that he has Michael how he’s always wanted him, Luke plans to hold onto it in an  _over my dead body_  sort of way.  
   
“I get so mad when Cal touches you,” Michael says, his voice growly.  
   
“He doesn’t get me like this,” Luke answers. He sees the way Michael looks at people, when they put hands on Luke. He’s going to have to get that under control, because Calum and Ashton are part of their group and they’re all closer than brothers, and Luke can’t have Michael’s jealousy tearing them apart. Even still, Michael’s words have shivers running up his spine. When they were younger, all Luke wanted was to be Michael’s best friend – his favorite person, the one he liked the most and trusted the most. The one he’d chose, over everyone else, if the choice was necessary. Luke knows he is that person to Michael. Has been for a long time. It makes him happy. It makes him hard, too.  
   
“Better not,” Michael mumbles. “Get the stuff.”  
   
Luke could bitch at him to get it himself. But he doesn’t. He lets Michael roll off him and then gets up – feels Michael’s intense gaze on him as he rummages through his suitcase for what they need. Michael likes to look at him, and usually it embarrasses Luke, makes him blush, because he’s scrawny and all limbs and he doesn’t think he’s much to want to look at. Right now, for whatever reason, he feels bold, so he lets Michael watch.  
   
Michael’s cock is in his hand when Luke turns around; he’s stroking it slowly while his eyes slide up and down Luke’s naked body. Luke feels it like fingertips. He gets lost looking at Michael sometimes too. He’s so damn  _beautiful_ , all that bright, pale skin and the soft absence of muscle. It works on Michael. Luke knows him so well. He knows the things Michael is afraid of, the things that make him laugh, the things that make him feel like crying. He knows the front Michael offers the world, dangerous and full of attitude and daring anyone to take issue with it, is to hide a sensitive soul and insecurities that run deeper than Luke can get to. He’d rip them all out if he could. He’s still hoping one day he’ll be able to.  
   
Luke climbs back onto the bed and pushes Michael over, making him roll onto his stomach. Michael goes, and makes a muffled noise when Luke falls on top of him, blanketing Michael’s body with his own. He nuzzles into the back of Michael’s neck, the soft hairs tickling his lips. His cock slots between the cheeks of Michael’s ass and Luke grinds down because it feels too good to hold back.  
   
“What are you doing?” Michael asks, sounding fond and exasperated at the same time. It’s his default setting when it comes to Luke. Luke hears a whole lot of love in it, more often than not.  
   
“Don’t wanna not be touching you right now.” Luke kisses the skin underneath his lips and rocks his hips again, a moan ripping from his throat.  
   
Michael moans too, pushing his ass back into Luke. The pressure is perfect. Luke could come like this. It probably wouldn’t even take long, with how keyed up he is from everything Michael did on stage earlier. Sharing Luke’s mic, rubbing against him while Luke tried to sing, spending way too much time in Luke’s space so Luke couldn’t concentrate on anything but getting Michael back here and getting fucked until he can’t walk. He loves it. Loves the feeling of Michael over him, inside him, being  _part_  of him. Luke’s been thinking about something else, though.  
   
Michael reaches back and cups his hand around the back of Luke’s neck. He squeezes, and tries to turn his head so he can see why Luke stopped moving. Luke’s heart races, aroused and nervous, and he trails his lips slowly along the shell of Michael’s ear. “I wanna fuck you so bad,” he whispers, embarrassed by it although he isn’t sure why. Excited, too.  
   
Michael pushes himself up on his free arm so he can twist around, sliding his fingers through Luke’s hair and pressing their lips together. For just half a second, Luke thinks Michael is going to refuse. And it’s okay, Luke understands. He’s fine with things the other way. More than fine. But then Michael murmurs, “Go for it,” just before he bumps his open mouth into Luke’s and flicks his tongue inside, and Luke forgets how to breathe for a moment.  
   
“You sure?” he rasps.  
   
Michael nods. “Yeah. I want it.”  
   
“I’ve never …”  
   
“I know.”  
   
“Not even with a girl, I mean,” Luke clarifies. “So I might be shit at it.”  
   
“I  _know_ ,” Michael repeats. “Are you forgetting I know everything about you? When would you have stuck it in some girl and been able to keep it from me?”  
   
Luke runs his fingers slowly down Michael’s side. His heart thumps against his ribcage at just the idea.  
   
“I will tell you if it sucks, okay?” Michael says. He tilts his chin forward, asking for another kiss. Luke gives it to him. “But it won’t. I love you.”  
   
Luke nods. “Me too. You know that, right?”  
   
“Yeah, I know that.”  
   
Luke presses kisses down Michael’s spine, reaching blindly for the lube and finding it after a few moments groping through the messy sheets. He licks, too, along Michael’s soft skin, salty from left-over sweat. Michael lets his legs fall apart a little, making room for Luke to kneel between them. He settles, and pours clear gel over his fingers, spreading it around. This much, Luke’s done to Michael before. Michael likes fingers inside while Luke’s sucking him off, and Luke likes it too. He likes how snug and warm it is inside; likes the way Michael moans when he hits that spot. Luke knows how that feels, Michael’s pressed on his with fingers and the tip of his cock and it’s like fireworks under Luke’s skin. He keeps kissing Michael’s back as he slides one, and then two fingers slowly into Michael’s body, moving them until the muscle starts to give. Michael sighs, sounding happy, so Luke adds a third.  
   
Feeling crazy all of a sudden, like he’s already throwing caution to the wind so what’s the difference, Luke ducks his head down and licks at Michael’s rim, stretched around his fingers. Michael gasps. He tries to reach for Luke but can’t – fingers curling in the sheets instead.  
   
“Fuck,” Michael swears. He arches up, tilting his hips so Luke has better access, and Luke takes advantage, spreading his fingers apart and sliding his tongue inside Michael in between them. “Shit, don’t stop. Keep going, Luke,  _Luke_ , fuck,” Michael pants.  
   
Luke is dizzy with it – the dirty thrill of what he’s doing, the idea that pretty soon his cock will be wrapped up as tight as his fingers are. Luke’s never felt that before. The only place his dick has been is in Michael’s mouth, and it’s good, it’s so fucking good, but Luke knows it gets even better. He fucks Michael with his fingers until Michael can’t decide between pushing back into Luke’s hand or forward into the mattress for some relief on his trapped erection. He reaches back again, and his voice is breathless and raw as he begs Luke to stop.  
   
“Won’t last, you gotta …” Michael moans, interrupting his own train of thought. “Wanna come with you in me.”  
   
Luke moans too, dropping his forehead down to rest against the small of Michael’s back and breathing so ragged it burns his throat. He wants that too, so much he can’t speak it out loud. The words won’t form in his mouth. Instead he just nods, even though Michael can’t see it, and slowly pulls his fingers out. He reaches for the bottle again, the touch of his own hand against his throbbing cock almost hurting his over-sensitive flesh.  
   
“Over,” is the only sound he’s able to make, patting Michael’s hip. He can’t do this from behind. He needs to see Michael’s face, his eyes; needs to kiss him.  
   
Michael turns onto his back and Luke doesn’t even wait for him to settle before he’s lunging forward and attacking Michael’s mouth.  
   
“C’mon,” Michael urges. “Need you.” He lifts his legs up and wraps them around Luke’s hips to further illustrate his point.  
   
Luke holds the base of his cock with a shaky hand and pushes forward, the first breach of it into Michael’s body making goosebumps explode over Luke’s skin. Michael grunts softly but rocks his hips up, encouraging Luke to keep going, and Luke forgets sometimes that Michael’s done this before, with someone who wasn’t Luke. He shoves the thought away. He doesn’t need it right now. Not when the only things that matter are right here, in the little invisible bubble that surrounds the moment and protects it from tomorrow. Luke works himself in slowly, still so scared of hurting Michael. It feels better than he thought. It’s so warm, so damn tight, and Luke’s eyes flutter closed on their own, without his brain telling them to. He hears someone moan, and it might be him but he can’t be sure.  
   
Michael’s hands are around his back, keeping him close, and there are soft lips brushing Luke’s – not a kiss, just mouths resting together while they breathe. Luke is overwhelmed to the point of being unable to think clearly.  
   
“Move, please,” Michael breathes. “Luke. You need to move.”  
   
Luke nods and does, pulling his hips back and then pushing them forward again, finding a slow, easy rhythm. Even this is too much, too good, and it’s going to be over when it’s only barely started.  
   
“Talk to me,” Michael whispers.  
   
“About what?” Luke grunts.  
   
“You’re not saying anything. Usually you won’t shut up.” Michael sounds worried, and Luke hates himself for it.  
   
He shakes his head, leaning down to kiss Michael slowly. “It feels so good. Can’t think of words.”  
   
“Me too,” Michael whispers back. “I wanted this, forever.”  
   
“Why didn’t you tell me?”  
   
“I wanted you to want it.”  
   
Luke laughs softly, because that’s so  _Michael_  it’s almost annoying.  
   
“Go a little faster, okay?” Michael asks.  
   
“You wanna come?” Luke smears the words into Michael’s cheek. He really, really hopes Michael says yes. Luke isn’t sure how much longer he’ll last. He can already feel it starting, low in his stomach.  
   
“Yeah.” Michael slides one hand up into Luke’s hair, squeezing handfuls of it.  
   
“Kay.” Luke lowers himself down to one elbow so he can balance better, and gets a hand between them to curl his fingers around Michael’s cock. Michael moans, low and pretty, as Luke strokes it and speeds up his thrusts.  
   
“Just like that, don’t stop,” Michael begs, warm breath tickling Luke’s cheek.  
   
Luke twists his wrist how Michael likes it and fucks him quicker, the slap of skin deafening in Luke’s pounding head. Michael groans as he loses it, muscles clenching around Luke, and words his mother would be ashamed of spill from Luke’s lips over the extra kick of pleasure. He buries his face in Michael’s damp neck and forgets himself, rocking his hips into Michael fast and uncoordinated, chasing that fireworks feeling and then falling over the edge and letting Michael’s arms hold him together.  
   
“Fuck,” Michael pants, into Luke’s ear, and then he laughs quietly. “Fuck.”  
   
Luke wants to joke, wants to tease Michael for his less-than-eloquent summary of the situation, but he can’t talk again. He lies, boneless, on Michael’s chest, hoping Michael can breathe but not really capable of moving either way. Michael’s arms are still tight around him, and Luke nuzzles into his skin and wishes he could just drift off to sleep like this. He’s warm and sated and happy, floating on the cloud of post-orgasm haze.  
   
Eventually Michael shifts under him and Luke gets the message, rolling heavily off him. Michael doesn’t let him get far. He tugs the sheets up over them both and drags Luke back in close. Luke still can’t think properly so he just lets Michael move him like a rag doll, and curls up gratefully in Michael’s arms.  
   
“Are you dead?” Michael asks, the smile audible in his voice.  
   
“A little,” Luke answers.  
   
Michael laughs again. “It’s pretty good, right?”  
   
“Yeah. Pretty good,” Luke agrees, going for sarcastic because that’s the understatement of the decade but he’s not sure he manages it.  
   
“You’re a dork,” Michael tells him, kissing his forehead. “Go to sleep, loser.”  
   
To Luke’s ears, it sounds a lot more like  _I love you_.

**Author's Note:**

> [follow me on tumblr if you want!](http://paper-storm.tumblr.com/)


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